


The Benefits of Patience

by Moami



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: BAMF Iwaizumi Hajime, BAMF Oikawa Tooru, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Yahaba also regrets his life decisions, Yahaba isn't getting paid enough for this, a very curious seijou team, don't ask Oikawa anything if you can't handle the truth, if you can be badass about being a couple and handling a stick-their-nose-in-everything team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 18:56:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8221397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moami/pseuds/Moami
Summary: Oikawa and Iwaizumi are a couple. There is no other explanation. They are together, they must be. Or are they?





	

It’s Yahaba who finally asks. In all honesty, he had been forced. Not even convinced, no, but unfairly guilt-tripped by half the team crowding him against a locker and bringing up a single argument. Just one. Yahaba would feel insulted with them implying that he’s easily manipulated, but Matsukawa’s laissez-faire, “You are the future captain, so act like one and do this for all of our sake,” had put an end to his protests.

And really? The team’s focus had lessened remarkably during the past weeks, and it must have something to do with the way Iwaizumi watches Oikawa from across the court (all frown gone, eyes warm with intensity, and so utterly caught) when he seems to think himself subtle and clever. It also definitely correlates with Oikawa sliding a hand around Iwaizumi’s waist when they leave the locker room, just far away enough that he probably believes nobody can see. (They do, and laughed at first until someone said “What if they’re actually -” and, well. They have to know for sure. Possibly congratulate.)

Alright then. Pairwise training is going on in the background, Iwaizumi is a safe distance away from the team that’s piling up for a quick break, and it’s the only opportunity that has ever presented itself apart from the changing rooms (which are, of course, too embarrassing of an environment). In short: to hell with discretion.

So in the end, it goes like this.

“Well, you see, this isn’t meant to be intrusive or anything. The team - I mean, this is something that’s come to our attention, right, and. It’s just that we’ve been wondering if you’re actually together,” Yahaba finishes what had been three minutes of talking around the point and tugging at a loose thread on his shirt. There, he’s done it. He’s been speaking to the floor the entire time, granted, but the words are out and he can only wait now.

But when no reaction whatsoever comes, Yahaba forces his spine into a straight position, prepares for the worst, and dares to glance up at Oikawa.

Oikawa is staring at him. “You’ve been _wondering_ ,” he echoes slowly.

“I. Yes?”

“I suppose that _I_ means _we_ in this case?” A muscle twists at the corner of Oikawa’s mouth. It’s not quite clear whether he’s displeased or amused or about to serve a threat to someone’s psychological health. All three?

Yahaba allows himself a deep, stressful breath.

“What’s going on?” Kyoutani comes shuffling to his side. It’s like the damn boy can sense inconvenience. “Who is what?”

Without warning, the rest of the group shifts in impressive synchronicity. It happens within seconds, and so smoothly on top of that, it’s quite extraordinary. Yahaba finds himself facing Oikawa with nothing and nobody else but a confused Kyoutani by his side. Traitors. Hanamaki is giggling somewhere behind his back.

“Well,” Oikawa hums. His hip is cocked to one side, arms over his chest in unyielding bars. “Hear ye, hear ye. Someone’s brave enough to actually ask me. I knew you were the best choice for my position after all. Not as perfect, of course, but you’ll grow into it. Though if you were really brave, you would have gone to Iwa first. But it’s a start. Now, I don’t think I caught you before, what was it you wanted to know?”

Yahaba tries to open his mouth. He feels a bit like a fish breathing on land. Oikawa watches him with terrible patience. “Go on, finish what you wanted to say. I can barely _wait_ for the end of it.”

“Same,” someone mumbles.

Yahaba sighs. “One second,” he lifts a finger to his still-captain, feeling a bit of courage return after not being yelled at yet (but that’s probably just because Iwaizumi isn’t around at the moment). He can work with that. If only the team would shut up for a second. There’s a constant rustling behind him, his teammates murmuring and gossipping and the few pieces that Yahaba overhears make him wonder if they’re six or sixteen. “Let me just silence those idiots.”

“Take your time.” Oikawa tucks a strand of hair back in place. He’s smiling.

Yahaba glares over his shoulder, a well-practiced frown sliding onto his face. The team is scattered around so casually that something fishy absolutely has to be happening. And - ah, yes, there it is. They’re known for being a bunch of strategic players after all.

It’s all intended to be very unnoticeable. Nobody is even looking at Yahaba, much less watching the situation directly, but they're all close enough to coincidentally eavesdrop on whatever is going to happen in a bit. Brilliant.

“Hey,” Kyoutani says, nudging against him. “What's happening? I don’t get it. Is the break over yet?”

Yahaba swallows and takes a deep breath. “Okay.” He looks at Oikawa who seems about able to snap through metal with his grin now (teeth, so many teeth). “I want to know if you and Iwaizumi are together. Because we, the team, we’ve been noticing things, that is. And nobody would mind, I suppose, so if you two are a couple, that is okay. Very okay.”

“It would certainly be _okay._ We're living in the twenty-first century.” Oikawa raises a brow. He’s deliberately speaking syllable by syllable, as if Yahaba is too dense to understand.

Retreat, full tactical retreat. He’s not cut out for this kind of battle, and he did try so nobody can blame him. “Right. Well, at least that’s settled, then. Sorry for asking.”

“You didn’t answer the question though,” Hanamaki says from behind. Yahaba whips around, mouth hanging open for a second before he gets it back under control. “This used to be a private conversation, you know.”

“Eh.” Hanamaki shrugs. “So, spill it. We’re dying for some news.” He’s got both hands around a water bottle and the plastic crinkles dangerously loudly in his grip. Everyone is looking at them. Seems like the casual acting is forgotten and abandoned in favour. Can’t miss this sensational development; the team’s hungry for the impending scandal, except for the few first years who have their attention fixed on Iwaizumi’s demonstration of a proper spike.

(Quite captivating if you’re not yet used to it. The technique, that is.)

Oikawa is still - still - smiling.

“I think the discussion is over,” Yahaba tries, talking over Hanamaki against all team ranks and age differences and basic politeness because, well, “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s not like it’s relevant to the team, and curiosity shouldn’t be priority over personal - “

“And that’s all nice and pretty, but the question remains. I, _personally_ , find that a bit of gay spices up any friendship.”

“Ooh, talk dirty to me.”

And easy as that, like a dam breaking, the team floods forward. Yahaba finds himself surrounded by too many people and words at once.

“With all due respect, Matsukawa, nobody asked you. Oikawa, I apologize for bringing this up.“

“I’ll talk about a lot of things to you after training, sweetheart. Maybe I’ll talk to you as well, Yahaba, you need a bit of loosening up.”

“Honestly. You’re supposed to be our next captain. How are you going to deal with this big a legacy - “

“What’s going on?”

“Kyoutani, not now, please. If the both of you don’t shut up, I will - I’ll do _something_ , I promise you that.”

“ - such responsibility of keeping the team together, the pressure of setting all of us up for success - “

“I wish,” Yahaba growls, spinning on his heels to jab a finger into Matsukawa’s and Hanamaki’s chests simultaneously, all while strongly regretting that he’d even given into everyone’s begging (threats) at all. “I could set up both of you for the bench. I am so sorry,” he calls over his shoulder, barely catching a glimpse of Oikawa who doesn’t seem to have moved one bit during the whole ordeal.

Until he clears his throat gently, and his smile fades to a mere softness around his mouth. “It’s alright. A bit silly of you to ask, though, as the answer is: of course not. I thought you all knew that.”

All sound dies out. Silence stretches.

Everyone on the edge of the court stutters to an irritated halt.

“What,” Matsukawa says.

“Do you mean,” Hanamaki begins. “The question, or… what?”

“Honestly.” The hint of amusement is back. Yahaba watches in awe as Oikawa smoothes an alarming serenity over an otherwise almost kind expression. (Soft? Kind? New associations. He’s never like that unless, ah, well.) “You intrude on Iwaizumi’s and my privacy, stare at both of us during training - don’t think we didn’t notice, it’s annoying - and then you don’t even listen when I’m kind enough to answer your questions. I’m so disappointed.”

The whole team twitches. Oikawa ignores it in favour of studying his nails - unnecessary, as they are always perfect. Courtesy of Iwaizumi, who files them for him before every match. Yahaba feels like a particularly stupid child, trying to put a puzzle together. In the middle of the locker room (no thank you) they’d be sitting, Oikawa’s long pale hands on Iwaizumi’s thigh until file and cream have done their work through rough spiker’s fingers, and seriously, it’s idiotic that the team bugged Yahaba into asking about a relationship when it’s clearly marriage that’s on the table here.

One of the pieces doesn’t fit now. Of course not. What?

 _Of_ _course not_?

“Hey,” Kyoutani mumbles from somewhere, “what does Yahaba mean by _together_? I don’t unders-”

“Shh,” Hanamaki whispers, “I need to hear this.”

“But,” Yahaba tries, ignoring the hesitant tug from Kyoutani at his shirt, “you’re all, you know. Touching. All the time, actually, so I’m not asking without reason here.”

Oikawa cuts him off with the wave of a thin hand. “Oh, don’t you worry, I’m certainly his and he’s mine. We’ve simply decided to postpone falling in love with each other until we’ve graduated.”

It takes a moment for the gears to start running again.

As soon as they do, though, a lot of things are happening at once.

“What does that even mean?”

“You can’t postpone a relationship!”

“So you two really are gay. Huh.”

“The possessiveness doesn’t surprise me at all. I never ever want any further details, thank you. Anyone coming to the first years with me?”

“I’m in.” Two people move from the group, but Yahaba barely notices, because he’s attempting to yell over the carpet of noise that the team produces, all while staring at Oikawa in utter shock himself. “Really, maybe you should explain that a bit, even if just to - would you _shut up_ \- calm them down?”

But Oikawa just tilts his head. “I thought I was clear. We’re not together just yet, that’s a matter for after graduation.”

“Well, just know that we’re okay with this, you being gay.”

“Thank you, that’s sweet.”

“Hey, one of them could be bi. Or both. I think Iwaizumi is, he looks like it.”

“Is your brain not getting enough blood? How can you _look_ bisexual?”

“Honestly, you can’t plan love! Or just push it to a later date. It’s not a dentist appointment.”

“I didn’t say that he _looks_ bisexual, I said that he looks like he _could_ be bi. God, you need to listen to me once in a while, this is why I’m the pretty one.”

“I knew those looks he gave him weren’t platonic. If a guy walks around like the world is his, you know, as if he’s always better than everyone else in the room, and you still look at him like he hung the moon? Yeah, then you’ve got it bad.”

“But I _am_ better than everyone else,” Oikawa protests.

Yahaba, who’s been desperately trying to get some order back into the chaos and fails, throws him a dark look. “Not helping! Everyone, would you please calm down, I know you’re all irrationally interested in this, but we have our answer now, so please?”

“Right, and I got the intelligence. Anyone could be bi if you’re judging by looks, there’s no default appearance for bisexuals, or did I miss a page in the official handbook?”

“Please?”

“And that, my dear, is exactly my point. Anyone could be bi. Just like you.”

“Fine. Bi or not bi, congratulations I guess, but how’d you land something like Iwaizumi with a character like yours?”

“What do you mean, falling in love? Oh. Oh! You mean together as in together-together? _In love_ -together? Ohhh.”

“Who is in love?” Iwaizumi asks.

It's not just Yahaba who jumps at the sound of his voice. Matsukawa chokes on nothing, almost falling over in a coughing fit, and Hanamaki barely manages to hold him upright despite clinging to his water bottle so viciously that it looks worryingly close to exploding. 

"Iwaizumi!" Kyoutani takes a step forward, some muscle twitching at his lip, which is the equivalent of a beaming smile for him. "We were just talking about you."

"Uhm," Yahaba swallows hard around the lack of air in his lungs. "Well, that's - correct, technically. I'm sorry, it was a stupid discussion, we're done here."

But Oikawa seems to have other plans. He slings an arm around Iwaizumi's waist, brushes his nose up his jaw and, fucking hell, kisses him on the cheek. "There you are," Oikawa says, his voice dropping low and soft like velvet, "sorry to tell you, but I guess they've found out. Though they seem to think that we're, ah, what was it, a couple? I corrected them. How was the training with the first years?" Another kiss to his cheek, reaching the corner of Iwaizumi's mouth now, and Oikawa slides a hand up his chest to spread it over his heart in languid, almost sleepy motions.

And if that's not the stuff of Yahaba's extremely uncomfortable nightmares, then he doesn't know what is. Watching his classmates hold a girl's hand is awkward, but this is beyond all categories of Oh God Please Don't.

Iwaizumi stills. There's no motion in the gym except for the first years that come running after their idol, shouting "thank yous" and "that was amazings". Oikawa has put his chin on Iwaizumi's shoulder. Hanamaki looks like he's seen a ghost. "But," he stammers, "you just kissed him. Friends don't do that."

"We're not friends." Iwaizumi is putting his hand over Oikawa's and then gets busy with studying his fingers. "How did you rough them up again? I told you to take better care of yourself."

"Sorry."

"You're impossible. I told you a thousand times."

"I know. Aw look, they're so confused. I've never seen them so quiet before."

"Monster," Iwaizumi says, his eyes going dark with fondness. 

 Yahaba manages a jittery breath, together with a few words. "Would you please care to explain?"

A frown pushes its way between Oikawa's brows. He gives the team a long stare, examining them in a thorough sweep. "Fine. We definitely can't train like that."

"Which is kind of your fault." Iwaizumi sighs. "Hurry up though, we've got half an hour left and there's cleaning to do, and I don't want to be late for dinner. Your mom sent me a text, she's making my favourite."

Someday, Yahaba thinks, he's going to write a book. But then again, he probably won't find a publisher, because this sounds too ridiculous for a based on a true story trope, and he can't have his readers die of embarrassment as well. 

"Ooh. Alright then!" Oikawa straightens a bit and claps his hands. "Listen up. I'll say this once and if you don't catch it, get the gossip from someone who did. Don't you hope for a single second that Haj- that Iwaizumi is single. He's a taken man and so am I, starting with the day of our graduation in - how long is it again? Two months, I believe. So there you go."

The silence is shorter this time, but no less heavy with confusion.

"I feel stupid," Hanamaki complains and picks up a volleyball just to spike it across the court. A few first years startle, jumping out of the way and rolling aside. Iwaizumi cranes his neck around, not letting go of Oikawa's hands. "You could have gotten that one! Go practice your receives."

"You're so firm today. I like it."

"Stop staying things like that in public. And hold still now."

Yahaba feels a tremendous headache coming up. It's pressing into his temples from the inside and crawls up his brain until he's so delusional that he sees Iwaizumi smile. Oh god, that's reality, still real and very much happening. Kyoutani appears by his side, holding a bottle. "Water?"

"Thanks." Yahaba drinks until his stomach feels like an ocean, and because apparently nobody here has the courage to be a captain or a hero, he asks: "Why the hell would you do that?"

Now Oikawa rolls his eyes. "Isn't it obvious? For practical reasons. Every couple needs an anniversary, after all. And since we've been together for all our life, and this," he jabs a finger into his own chest, then runs it along Iwaizumi's arm, "just kind of happened naturally, we didn't know when it started. I know when I first kissed him, but we were always close, and it's annoying to pick it apart. So I won't. A fixed date is easier. And don't you think that getting together on the day of your graduation after being childhood friends for so long is kind of romantic? I think it is. It's also easy to remember for everyone."

Kyoutani whines next to Yahaba's ear, about how this is boring and everything seems fine, what even is the problem? Yahaba?

"I don't care," Iwaizumi shrugs. "But his mom does and mine does too, for some reason. So we decided to set up a definite date for them. It's more of a formality, but it made them happy."

"I think it was a good idea," Oikawa interrupts, and for once Iwaizumi doesn't seem to care about being cut off. He waves at Oikawa as if to say _go ahead,_ and then finds a sudden interest in his setter's (boyfriend's?) fingers again. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a tiny tub of cream - "For the love of god, I can't believe this," Matsukawa whispers desperately - and starts rubbing it into Oikawa's skin.

"I want to go home," Hanamaki breathes. He's clinging to Matsukawa's shoulder now. "This is disgusting. Make them go away."

"Caries. I can feel it coming."

A tiny smile rises on Oikawa's lips. "Yes, it really was a good idea. Knowing your wedding day four years in advance makes the planning a lot easier. Would be nice if it was a legitimate one, but oh well, I guess a small ceremony with about two hundred guests in Hajime's garden will have to do."

Yahaba thinks that he's never been in a gym that quiet. It may well be possible that all air inside the room just spontaneously vanished into a vacuum. A ball drops somewhere, a bit like thunder over a poor field of wheat.

Iwaizumi shrugs after half a minute. "Honestly, I thought they knew," he says and kisses Oikawa on the lips.

It's Kyoutani, in the end. He shuffles awkwardly, glancing at Oikawa, and then raises a hand.

Oikawa looks like he's trying not to smile. "Yes?"

This team, Yahaba thinks, is insane. Out of their minds. Totally lost, no going back. He'd do anything for them. 

"Congratulations," Kyoutani says, "that's great, but it's also four years from now, so can we go back to training?"

They do. Nobody mentions it again. Well, except for the discussion between Matsukawa and Hanamaki that Yahaba accidentally eavesdrops on the next day, something about the best colour for suits, and that over talk between Kunimi and Kindaichi about wedding gifts, are household items still an option and there's this great flower shop near Kindaichi's house that could, in theory, one day.

Those don't really count, anyways, so it's safe to say that nobody talks about it anymore. There are just the touches and the looks and the kisses, soft and not-in-secret-anymore, but they don't count either - yet. In two months, they will. 


End file.
